


1:32 am

by Grace4all



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: 1:32 am, An alternate look at how Dirk & Todd meet, Coincidences are piling up and Todd is confused, Gen, Still canon though, Todd dealing with things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9842996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grace4all/pseuds/Grace4all
Summary: Todd's life is spiraling out of control, his sister's a mess, he doesn't have a job, and some idiot above him keeps moving furniture at an ungodly hour.





	

 

The first time it happens, Todd is counting his savings.

It’s a very short and depressing past time, taking all of two minutes to count out $110.63. He’d sold his soul to Craigslist, desperately hoping to get a job as Amanda’s calls piled up on his phone.

As he sat there, future looking as dark as the night sky, the noise started.

Todd glanced up in confusion as a low sound of scraping came from above his head. The Ridgely had horrendously thin walls and ceilings, sending the sound echoing around Todd’s small apartment.

He glanced at his watch.

_1:32 am_

“Who’s even up at this hour?” The ex-musician grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face before tucking the money back into one of his sneakers. The sound continued, and Todd realized it was furniture.

Maybe they just moved in, Todd thought, even though he hadn't seen a moving van in 7 months he’d lived here. _It’s probably just tonight, anyway._

….………………………………………………………

It wasn’t.

The next night, Todd was sleeping fitfully, another day of job searching with no results having worn him down. The sound began with a loud thunk, soon followed the long drag of furniture across Todd’s ceiling.

Todd swore as he woke up, a light sleeper from the days where he’d lived with Amanda during her early attacks. As he identified the sound, he turned to look at his watch.

_1:32 am_

_Huh?_

It had to be a coincidence. Maybe his watch was broken-it was bought off a vender after all, the cheapest he could afford. He smacked the watch face a few times.

Tentative silence filled the apartment for a few moments, and then the dragging began anew.

What could he do? Go up there? What if they was a bodybuilder who would snap Todd like a toothpick? What if-

_SMASH!_

Something smashed against the wood floor above him, and he tensed, expecting to hear some sort of reaction, but all he got was silence for the rest of the night.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

On the third night, he took action.

At 1:30 am he lay in bed, mind rewinding to where he’d run into one of his old bandmates at a McDonald’s interview. The man had taken one look at Todd and offered a painful smile, but Todd turned around as though he’d never seen him. He could sense the confused glance, but all he could think about was how that same man had almost cried when his guitar was ‘stolen.’

It all came swirling around him, how he’d lied to Amanda, he’d lied to his bandmates, his parents, what remained of his social circle, how his life was completely and utterly destroyed and _god_ he was such a piece of-

_ssSSsSCREEEEECCCHHHHHH_

_1:32am_

Todd screamed into his pillow and leapt up, picking up a heavy saucepan and throwing it at the ceiling. He missed and it fell back to Earth, right onto Todd’s left shoulder. The man gave a short scream of pain and the noise above instantly stopped.

“That’s right!” Todd yelled, frustration boiling over. “See how you like it, you bastard, see if you can get any sleep-”

There was a pounding at his door, and Todd stalked over to pull it open, his sleep-deprived mind confident that the person above him was here to apologize.

“Al _right you_ \- Dorian?”

Todd’s landlord stood outside the door wearing nothing but boxers, breathing heavily. The insult died in Todd’s mouth, along with any hope of a peaceful night.

………...………………………………………………………………

Todd spent the fourth night in jail.

Dorian had screamed at him for ‘causing a disturbance’, but Todd swore he could hear feet pattering above him. When Dorian realized Todd was ignoring him, he’d punched him.

Todd would never be the muscle man, but he’d been in a few fights. One smashed wall and 3 calls to the police later, Todd and Dorian were sat inside a holding cell, where the police questioned Todd about a ‘possibility’ of Dorian using drugs, of Todd doing drugs, of the sweet old lady below Todd doing drugs.

He sat inside the interrogation room, wearily waiting until his 24 hours were up, desperately trying to remember if this would go on his permanent record.

The door clicked open, one of the policemen unlocked his cuffs. “All right, Brotzman, you’re free to go.”

Todd flicked his wrist around, blood running cold at the time.

_1:32 am_

He checked the clock on the wall. The time was _exactly the same._

“Isn’t this a little unsafe?” he asked uneasily. Was Dorian getting released right now too?

“You want us to walk you back to your apartment?” The cop scoffed. “We haven’t even had drinks yet.”

Todd scowled. “Never mind.” He pushed past the man and power walked out of the station, keeping an eye peeled for Dorian the entire time.

When he got back to his apartment, _(2:23am,)_ there was no noise above him. Todd flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Thanks for getting me arrested,” he snapped to the ceiling.

The only noise he heard in response were the creaks of the old building and the distant sound of catcallers from down the street.

……………………………………………………..

On the fifth night, something changed.

For once, Todd was sleeping (mostly) soundly, oblivious to both the ticking of the clock and of nearby masked men rattling doorknobs, handguns at the ready.

_1:32 am._

The furniture woke Todd up with a groan, but before he could muster the energy to shout profanities at the ceiling, more noises stopped him.

Several pairs of heavy boot, banging on doors, multiple low gruff voices...and what sounded like a gun being loaded.

Todd froze, fully awake now, staring at his unlocked door. It was stupid, he knew, but sometimes he just...forgot.

And now it seemed like it was going to get him killed.

_Did he have time to lock it?_ Letting out an anxious noise, Todd crept out of bed, swearing as he tumbled over something, expecting his fall to echo around the room.

But somehow, at that moment, a particularly loud dragging sound slowly filled the Ridgely, muffling Todd’s fall.

Eyes wide, Todd scrambled to the door and bolted hit, trying not to think about what would happen if he’d been asleep.

………………………………………………………..

It was the eighth night now.

It had stopped being a coincidence. Todd would wake to the sound of furniture at _exactly 1:32 am_ , and the noise would go for about 15 minutes before dying down. Twice more he tried to shut them up with the saucepan, (hiding behind the couch immediately after he threw it,) but to no avail.

That particular night, Todd jerked awake before the first scraping began, feeling the day weigh down on him. In the silence of the flat, he checked his watch.

_1:29 am_

“Not tonight,” he whispered to the ceiling, remembering how he’d had to tell Amanda she’d be without a medicine refill until he could get more money. “Just, please, let me get a job, get Amanda her meds, then…” he closed his eyes, a wave of dizziness overtaking him. “I just don’t know if I can do this anymore…”

_Ping._

Todd blinked and reached for his phone just as the sounds began. His eyes widened as he read the first few sentences of a notification.

Seeking one bellhop to assist with guest luggage and work the front desk. Hours and Pay….

Todd suddenly noticed the time on his phone.

_1: 32 am._

……………………………………………………

Todd had checked the apartment during the day multiple times, which was always unlocked. The cursed furniture was there, but there was never an occupant. Todd did note with some distaste that the apartment was much nicer than his.

One time he’d even checked the drawers and cupboards, but he’d never found so much as a pair of socks.

He’d thought about storming up right before the noise started. About confronting who did it, about just doing something. But at the same time, there was a growing sense of satisfaction that came with knowing what would happen each night. It was, as pathetic as his life was, one of the few constants.

Of course, he’d then realize he was _psychoanalyzing redecoration_ at a ridiculously early time, and if he weren’t so tired of it all, he would laugh.  
………………………………………………………………………………..

But then, on the tenth night, there was another change.

Todd woke up, stretching his arms and staring at the ceiling expectedly before realizing something was wrong.

His apartment was filled with sunlight.

Todd jerked himself fully awake and stared at his watch.

_7:23 am._

Had there not been a noise last night? Had he slept through it? Amanda sometimes called late at night, what if he’d slept through her call-

Todd grabbed his phone, sighing with relief that Amanda hadn’t called. But then he frowned, noticing an email.

_Mr. Brotzman,_   
_We are pleased to inform you that your position as a bellhop at the Perryman Grand Hotel has been confirmed…_

The timestamp read _1:32 am._

Todd scanned the rest of the email, his heart beating faster and a disbelieving smile making its way onto his face.

The same smile dropped when he read the final line.

_...we expect to see you tomorrow morning to meet with your predecessor at 7:30 am…_

Todd let his eyes check the time.

_7:25.am_

_Crap._

………...………………………………………………………...

When he’d gotten back, ( _7:25 pm_ ) after having miraculously not been fired on his first day, he pulled out the sneaker holding his savings ($83.23) and put a small note with his new monthly salary. Maybe if he kept this one, along with another job, skipped a couple of meals, he could actually make this work.

He called Amanda, for once not having to force the optimism in his voice. Amanda sounded relieved, although the mood dropped when she mentioned her attack that day.

“I thought the walls were closing in,” she said, her voice cracking. “And it was really bright, so I could see the bones of my arms and legs crushing togeth-”

“Hey, it’s going to be all right,” he managed, gut churning with guilt. “As soon as I get my paycheck, I’ll send you more medicine.”

Amanda sighed though the crackly line. “Yeah, I guess. I know this sucks for you-”

“It’s fine,” Todd cut in. “Seriously, sis, just focus on getting better-take it one day at a time.”

“Is that what helped you?” she asked, hope obvious.

Todd stared at the ceiling, half-hoping the noises would start early so he’d have an excuse to avoid the conversation. As the silence persisted, he closed his eyes.

“Yeah. Just a...day-by-day thing.” _God, he hated himself._

He hung up later, collapsing onto his thin mattress with the image of his sister being crushed on repeat in his mind. It was a good thing he wasn’t hungry-the price tag of his sister’s only hope faced him each time he closed his eyes.

Only when the clock hit _1:32 am,_ and the furniture began to move, did Todd fall asleep.

……………………………………………………………….

One night, after a particularly bad day at the hotel, Todd walked up to the offending apartment at 8:45pm, pushed open the door, and left a note on the empty side table.

_5A:_

_Listen, I’m not usually one to judge another’s nighttime habits-but why are yours at such an early time? And why furniture? Seriously? Knock it off-some people need their sleep._

He didn’t sign it- he could get hit with a breaking and entering charge and that was the last damn thing he needed.

Besides, the threat of a bodybuilder hadn’t completely left his subconscious.

……………………………………………………….

And then _the Day_ came.

The day Patrick Spring was murdered, and Todd fired. He stumbled home in a daze, after police called him back in for more questioning. (How was Todd supposed to know what kind of pressure system the penthouse had? How would one even scramble security tapes?) He took the long way home, ignoring the flashing lights of the Seattle nightlife as he tried in vain to reach Amanda. The Ridgely was dark, and Todd had to practically force his door open. Maybe he could pass out for a few hours, find a way to keep Dorian off his back, and-

He turned from locking the door, faced the window and screamed.

The man climbing through his window paused to cock his head and beam. _“Hiiiiii!”_

In an instinct he’d question later, Todd looked at his watch.

_1:32 am._

……………………………………………………………..

Todd had desperately hoped the whole thing was a horrendous nightmare his mind had come up with to further torment him.

But there was Dirk Gently, leaning against a car that, combined with the man’s yellow jacket, hurt Todd’s eyes.

“What are you still doing here?” Todd accused, watching Dirk smile as he approached.

“Hey! I live here, you know,” Dirk defended, sticking his twitching hands deep into his pockets.

_“What?”_

“Yeah! I moved in about two weeks ago!” Dirk bounced on his heels, eager to see what his new best-assis friend would be like. “Although I can’t say I’ve been completely satisfied with the decor of the place…”

Todd’s face darkened as he made the first of many connections.

“Wait, you’re the one who’s been making the racket at _1:32 every morning?”_

_“‘Racket?’”_ Dirk protested, growing confused as Todd started to walk closer. “The Universe told me I had to-AHHHH!”

Dirk’s voice went up two octaves as Todd slammed him against the side of the Corvette.

“You have been driving me _insane_!” he hissed, all the frustration of the last fortnight spilling out. “I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep in weeks and if it’s all _your fault-”_

“I didn’t-that’s not what I meant!” Dirk squealed. _Was this just a best friend thing?_

“HEY!”

Both men turned to see Dorian taking up his doorway, sledgehammer pointed directly at Todd. Dirk furrowed his brow, noticing how Todd tensed up, remembering his hunches pointing to danger where this man was concerned.

“Let’s go!” Todd dove into the Corvette, and Dirk grinned at him. “I’m happy that you’re willing to accept and be my assistant, although I don’t know we couldn’t have settled this last-”

“Just get in and drive!” Todd snapped, eyes fixed on Dorian, the not-so-soothing sound of his landlord’s screams almost drowning out Dirk’s ramble.

Dirk nodded and hopped in, unable to stop smiling as he started the engine, giving Dorian a thumbs up as he demanded, “Dirk! Make sure he comes back with my money!”

“What?” Todd stared at Dirk, his eyes widening. “How do you-”

His assisfriend’s words were cut off by the scream he gave as they barreled into traffic.

.………………………………………………………………….

It wasn’t until the two of them were helping kidnapped women wearing a welding mask that Todd finally saw Dirk’s apartment in full use.

The holistic detective had boxes strewn about, glasses hanging hazardously off the counter, but most distressing was the sofa laying on its side, blocking the window.

“Ah…” he made a gesture towards the sight as he unbuckled the woman’s mask. Dirk grinned sheepishly.

“Well, there seem to be an awful lot of window-entrances around here. Given the reception you gave me, I’m encouraging all other guests to use the door-”

“Dirk?” The woman on the couch muttered, the overly optimistic tone rousing her.

“Hi, Farah!”

Todd watched a kitten paw at Farah’s suit and tried to let his mind catch up. “Wait, you know her?”

“More of an acquaintance, really-”

_“MOTHER-”_

………………………………………………………………………….

When Farah was asleep and Dirk was sporting a small bruise on his left temple, Todd perched on an overturned box, rubbing his face with his hands. Dirk hovered nearby, a can of cold cat food against his head.

“Are you going to tell me why you kept moving your furniture?” Todd asked, staring at the floor/ceiling and distantly wondering if Dirk had ever done the same.

Dirk finally sat down next to Todd, studying his assistant’s tense form. “Each day that we live, Todd, has the potential to be new,” he began.

“I heard the same thing from the lottery lady in a dumpy 24-hour shop,” Todd grumbled.

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true!” Dirk insisted. “I mean, your life is now profoundly different that it was 48 hours ago-”

Todd winced. “What does this have to do with furniture?”

“A new day deserves a new outlook,” Dirk shrugged. “A new environment, a new way to look at everything. It... helps me think.”

“A new day starts at _1:32 am?_ ” Todd protested, careful to keep his voice low.

Dirk bit his lip, the guilty look slipping back onto his face. “That’s when the Universe told me to do it,” he admitted, avoiding Todd’s gaze.

Todd rolled his eyes, still reluctant to buy into the whole ‘interconnectedness of the Universe’ that Dirk believed so strongly in. “Whatever.” His mind reviewed the past two weeks, replaying the now-obvious signs to him. “Just...try and give me a heads up next time? So I can try and get some sleep?”

Dirk nodded fiercely. “Absolutely. Although since meeting you can’t say I’ve felt the urge, but should the Universe demand the rearrangement of my sofa, I can assure that you’ll be the first to know-oo, perhaps, you could assist? Given that our two paths are undoubtedly tied together-”

“I hate to interrupt your moment,” Farah’s cracked voice drifted over, “but we have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I am advising you to _shut up.”_

“Of course, sorry Farah, I suppose I should have thought of the- _OW!”_

Todd tossed the pillow back to Farah, who eyed her target-Dirk’s face, that is. Dirk grumbled and shuffled to the floor, reluctant to leave the room with _two_ new friends in it. Todd watched through half-lidded eyes as the room fell silent, his gaze moving from Farah tucked against Dirk’s couch and the detective himself curled against the wall. Todd gave a small smile, flicking his wrist around.

_1:32 am._

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!  
> I hope you liked this-Todd's mindset is completely fascinating to me, but I've got some more Dirk-centered ones lined up. 
> 
> (I would like to mention that to write this, I googled bellhop's salary, rent in Seattle apartments, and found a whole website filled with the sounds of furniture being dragged.) 
> 
> If you have a request or just want to scream about Dirk with me, come hang with me on my tumblr, Holistic-Grace. We have lots of fun!
> 
> Thanks always, 
> 
> -Grace


End file.
